


Herbal Seasoning

by poodleskirt, readfah_cwen



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Marijuana Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poodleskirt/pseuds/poodleskirt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/readfah_cwen/pseuds/readfah_cwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I mean, this looks high quality. You wouldn’t throw out Godiva chocolate, would you?” // Kurt and Blaine face a parenthood test when Blaine finds weed in their daughter's room, but Kurt has a plan for how to properly deal with it. (And then they get high.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Herbal Seasoning

“I can’t believe it!” He heard Blaine shout from his office.

Kurt looked up from his designs. “Blaine?”

“I cannot _believe_ it! Didn’t we raise her better? Oh my _god_ , I’m going to _kill_ her!”

“Honey?” Kurt called again, more worried. “You OK?”

Down the hall came the sound of Blaine marching angrily before finally, the door was thrust open, with Blaine standing looking furious. Kurt wondered if this was about how he forgot to do the dishes again, and immediately pushed his chair away from the door, if only to continue his life for a few brief moments.

“Drugs, Kurt. _Drugs_! Our Fettuccine, _little Fetta_. A drug addict!”

Realizing this had nothing to do with the sink full of dirty dishes, Kurt calmed down enough to hear his husband’s words. “She’s a _what_?”

Without answering, Blaine threw a ziplock baggie filled with some kind of greenery into his lap. On further inspection, it was a very _distinct_ kind of greenery.

“Where did you find this?”

“In her backpack! Oh my god, she’s doing it at school!”

So. Fettuccine had found some herbal seasoning. This was a _parenthood_ test.

“Well I’d hardly stand for her doing it in here. The smoke would ruin the upholstery,” Kurt said reasonably.

“Kurt, _that is not the point_!”

“What is it then? Blaine, it’s not like it’s heroin. Maybe you should relax.” Kurt said with a pointed look down at the bag in his lap, then a wink.

Blaine looked, if possible, even more horrified.

“You did not just make a joke about our daughter, the _druggie’s_ , addiction.”

“It’s weed, Blaine. It’s also,” Kurt frowned down at the bag. Hang on. “Quite a lot. How did she get all the money for it?”

“Oh my god. I thought that ten field trips in one month was a little much, all that money for museums. _I’ve been feeding her drug habit_.” Blaine ran a hand through his hair. “Oh god I can’t even look at it any more. I’m throwing it out.”

“You’re doing _what_?”

Blaine had already snatched the bag away from Kurt and was walking out in the direction of the kitchen. Kurt scrambled up to follow him. “I,” Blaine repeated, holding it away from his body like it was a ticking bomb, “Am throwing it away.”

“Let’s think about this,” Kurt said, catching up with Blaine and linking their arms, slowing him down until they could speak. “Think of how much museum money is in that bag.”

“What? Do you want us to _sell_ it?”

“No, no …” Kurt grabbed it from Blaine and cracked it open, taking a sniff. There were even rolling papers inside. Blaine made an odd choking sound. “I mean, this looks high quality. You wouldn’t throw out Godiva chocolate, would you?”

“So you’re saying we …” Blaine stared at the weed. “Consume it.”

“It’s a win-win situation, if you think about it,” Kurt smirked, satisfied in his problem-solving skills. “Our lying daughter doesn’t get to enjoy her spoils, and we get rewarded for being such good parents and catching her before she could do any damage to herself.”

“And damage _ourselves_ instead?”

“Blaine, we’re grown-ups. We’re allowed to drink and drive too fast and, yes, partaketh in a little fun. Kids, they’re impressionable, that’s why we keep them away from these things.” Kurt nodded seriously. “You know, I didn’t do this until I was living on my own …”

“ _What_? You’ve done this before?”

“I was in a band,” Kurt said, as if it was obvious. “You’ve met Elliott. You’ve met Dani.”

“I always knew all that incense and curry was covering up for something …” Blaine trailed off. “Oh my god, we’ve had them over for dinner. What if Fetta got the idea from _them_?”

“I’m pretty sure they haven’t been lighting up with our fourteen year old daughter, Blaine, they’re cool stoners, not predators.”

“Still.” Blaine looked between the weed and Kurt. “I can’t believe you never told me you did that.”

“I don’t know, it seemed weird to brag, so many people in art school did it …” Kurt stared at Blaine. “You went to NYADA! Are you telling me you never--?”

“No!” Blaine was aghast. “The only time I’ve been high, it was off a gas leak! When I made all those puppets in high school, remember.”

“That … explains so much.” Kurt smiled. “Such a Dalton boy.”

“And then Dalton burned to the ground!” Blaine threw his hands in the air. “I can’t trust anyone to have not lit up!”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” Kurt’s smile turned more inviting. “Are you telling me you aren’t even a little bit curious?”

“Wha--no!” Blaine said, though he gave the bag a curious glance. “I mean, I’m a father. I was a _teacher_.”

“For like a year. And come on, you don’t think Mr. Shue didn’t ever take a hit before coming to rehearsal?” Kurt said, moving towards Blaine, who looked completely horrified and just a little bit intrigued.

“Actually, I hadn’t considered that!” Blaine said. “And now I’ll never be able to look at him in the eye, so thanks for that.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said firmly. “Weed is not that bad. People who do it are not bad people. Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“Of course not,” Blaine said, immediately melting. “You’re the best person I know.”

“And I’ve also,” Kurt said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Smoked a ton of weed.”

“You’re making this very difficult,” Blaine said. “What would Smokey the Bear say?”

“Didn’t he handle forest fires? I can confidently say Smokey the Bear would not care if you got completely stoned.”

“He wouldn’t?” Blaine asked hopefully.

“Not a bit.”

“And what about Mr Rogers?”

Blaine needed to clear this by all his childhood heroes first.

“Oh, he was a total liberal, he probably did it all the time.” Kurt tweaked Blaine’s bowtie. “It’s always the quiet ones, you know?”

“Isn’t that what they say about sex freaks?” Blaine raised an eyebrow. “And serial killers?”

“Let’s break some stereotypes then!” Kurt’s hand skimmed down Blaine’s arm to wind their fingers together, tugging gently. “Wasn’t it just last month you were worried we weren’t hip enough?”

“We do spend a lot of nights in …”

“And this is a way to do that and have fun,” Kurt said. “It really is fun, I promise.”

“So you don’t just get lazy and wish you were eating a bowl of cheetos? Because I can do that without marijuana’s help …”

“No, it’s all about perception, and time, and kicking back, and …” Kurt was guiding a now curious Blaine down the hall to their bedroom. “It’s hard to describe. But I think you’d like it.”

“Even though I’m a Dalton boy?”

“Even though. Maybe especially because.” Kurt considered his husband, who was always running this way and that, and stressed in a way broga with Sam couldn’t always fix. “Don’t dismiss it out of hand, is all I’m saying.”

“Well,” Blaine said thoughtfully. “I’m always about experiencing new things. Remember that time on vacation I tried surfing?”

“I do.” How could Kurt forget his husband in one of those skin-tight suits.

“Well it’s kind of like that? Trying out something I never thought I would. Learning doesn’t stop at school. Finding new inspirations, as an artist!”

“Exactly!”

“So I guess the only thing now …”

“Is to find my old lighter!”

\--

“Dad? Papa?” Fetta asked, opening the door. “I’m back from shopping!”

The hallway was curiously empty, and even more curiously, freezing cold. She set down her bags on the hall table, looking around. Her dads were normally home right now.

“Geez, who left the window open?” She asked. Still no answer. Was this some new health kick of her dads? Cold air to rejuvenate themselves, or something? She wouldn’t put it past them.

She started to walk cautiously towards the main bedroom door, where most of the chill was coming from. Were those voices? Learning from past mistakes, she knocked on the door instead of barging in.

“Dad?”

No answer.

“Papa?” She asked, knocking some more.

Still nothing. Closing her eyes, she opened the door. “You guys aren’t naked, are you?”

Nothing. She peeked open her eyes, and saw the room was empty, but with half of her dads’ wardrobe strewn across the bed and floor, leading from the walk-in closet to the open balcony doors. Beyond the doors sat two familiar laughing figures. It being in the middle of winter, she wondered -- not for the first time -- if her dads were crazy.

And then the smell hit her.

_Oh my god._

“Dad? _Papa_?” She yelled, horrified.

“It’s Fetta! Lil’ Fetta!” Her dad stood up, his fringed jacket flapping as he waved his arms in expansive greeting. “How’s my baby noodle! How was shopping?”

“Any … museum trips?” Papa asked, then fell apart giggling, his bowtie undone and the tiny remains of a blunt still clutched in his fingers. She zeroed in on that, unable to believe it even as she stared at it.

“What are you two _doing_?” Fetta looked between them and the blunt. “Are you _high_?”

“Well …” Kurt took an exaggerated look over the edge of the balcony. “We sure aren’t low!” Blaine laughed even harder.

“Are you two _serious_ right now! You can’t get high! Where did you even --” a horrible thought hit her. “No, don’t tell me …”

“Yep! We got into your _stash_.” Dad leaned against the French doors, mistaking how secure they were and stumbling a little before catching himself and crossing his arms. He tilted his chin to peer hazily at her. “For which you are grounded, and we are thankful. Veryyy thankful.”

“It … wasn’t mine?” Fetta tried.

“You’re right! It’s mine!” Papa piped up, leaning over his chair to send a stern-eyebrowed look at her that was ruined by his twitching lips. “Because my money paid for it. So … mine.”

“And what’s half of his is mine!” Dad added, and sent a goopy look at Papa. “Because we’re _married_.”

“Yeah we are!” Papa reached over, grabbing Dad around the hips and pulling him down into his lap, laughing and peppering kisses on his face. Fetta looked away, mortified. This was officially the worst thing to ever happen to her.

Dad, briefly disentangling himself from Papa, craned his neck to look over at her. “So you should just go to your room, and …” He made a vague gesture.

“Think about what you’ve done!” Blaine added helpfully.

“Yes! Yes, go and think of your mistakes. Call your godmother, figure out your sins.”

“Mercedes is very helpful with talking about sins.” Blaine nodded sagely. “So smart. Now, shoo shoo. Also make dinner. I’m thinking something cheesy, and crunchy … something like Cheetos. No, _actually_ Cheetos.” It sounded like an inside joke. She was used to that with her dads.

“Like deconstructed croutons!” She heard her dad yell, but at that point she had already booked it from the room, thinking that after what she witnessed, she was glad to be grounded -- Aunt Mercedes could think up any punishment she liked. And also: she could really use a hit right now.

Hopefully they hadn’t looked in her closet too.

_end._

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr link](http://boldmistakes.tumblr.com/post/113656101081/herbal-seasoning-klaine-1-1)


End file.
